


Favors

by Xingshou



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor Being Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust Being Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Confused Angel Dust, Cute, Eventual Fluff, F/F, Favors, M/M, Secret Santa, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), radiodust - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28233492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xingshou/pseuds/Xingshou
Summary: When someone is asked for a favor, a reciprocal favor is usually expected in return.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 123





	Favors

**Author's Note:**

> This is my RadioDust story for @bonniejackalope for the Secret Santa on Twitter. Hope you enjoy!

“Hey, Al, could ya do me a favor?” 

Alastor looked up from the newspaper he was reading in an attempt to take a rare break. One ear flicked in annoyance as he looked over at Angel Dust standing in the doorway.  


The spider, normally so confident and brash, looked somewhat…ashamed? Embarrassed? Standing there rubbing at one arm as he bit at as his lip. Alastor couldn’t place the emotion, but nevertheless, it was curious. 

“Favors are interesting things…” Alastor said, “It usually indicates there will be a reciprocal favor.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whateva, I’ll owe ya a favor,” Angel said, shifting from foot to foot. “Now will ya help me? I gotta figure this out before Charlie and Vaggie get back.” 

Alastor sighed and stood, snapping his newspaper into the void, “Very well, what is it I can help with?” 

He followed Angel Dust into the kitchen, where what appeared to have once been a three-tiered cake sagged onto the table, dripping melting frosting onto the floor. Alastor raised an eyebrow – whatever Angel had needed help with, he certainly wasn’t expecting this. 

“Care to explain?” 

“Uh, well…” Angel coughed nervously, “Y’see, Vaggie wanted ta do somethin’ special for Charlie since it’s like an anniversary of the datin’ or somethin’ and… I kinda… mighta… exaggerated my cake makin’ skills a bit. But I didn’t think it’d actually be that hard!” 

“Hm…” Alastor prodded the top of the cake with his microphone, taking a step back as the entire layer sagged off and hit the floor with a plop. “And you need my help how, exactly?” 

“Can’t ya fix it? Like… with ya magic?” 

“I could,” Alastor said, “But it wouldn’t be the same. No, food and pastry shouldn’t be touched by magic, it gives it a touch of… wrongness, no matter how you slice it. No, you’ll simply have to start over.” 

“Fuck.” 

“I’m sure I can lend a hand, as that’s what I did agree to,” Alastor shrugged, examining the cake. “I’m no pâtissier of course, but it seems to me that you attempted to stack and frost this monstrosity before giving it ample time to cool. A simple enough fix in a second attempt. When did the ladies say they’d be back?” 

Angel glanced at the clock. “We still gotta coupla hours.” 

“Perfect. Let’s begin, shall we?” 

As it turned out, Angel Dust was actually fairly adept at the actual baking of the cake, confidently combining ingredients and pouring them into three cake pans with minimal input from Alastor, who was happy to sit back and watch. It seemed the spider’s only real problem had been biting off more than he could chew, especially when he showed the recipe he was trying to work off to Alastor. 

“If you’ve never made a multi-tiered cake before, what in the circles made you believe you could pull this off?” Alastor asked, looking over the recipe. “I daresay a professional chef may have a difficult time with it in the time you’ve allotted yourself.” 

“I dunno, I’ve always been pretty good with bakin’, and like I said I didn’t think it was gonna be that hard,” Angel said, sticking the pans in the oven and shutting the door. “An’… sometimes I can’t help myself braggin’. Even if it ain’t exactly true.” 

“A common downfall of many demons.” 

“Can’t do anythin’ ‘til the cakes are done,” Angel shrugged. “Whaddya wanna do now?” 

Alastor blinked at him. “I … beg your pardon?” 

“You’re still helpin’ me with the cakes, right? We can’t do anythin’ ‘til they’re done. So… ya wanna do somethin’? We could –“ 

Alastor’s radio static screeched as he frantically imagined what Angel Dust might want to do with some free time, “No, no, I’m sure I can find something else to occupy my time, no need to come up with suggestions –“ 

Angel laughed, raising an eyebrow. “I was just gonna say we could watch somethin’ on Voxflix, ya fuckin’ psycho. What’d ya think I was gonna say?” 

“I hesitate to say,” Alastor said, just in case his thoughts actually gave Angel an idea, “But… seeing as we do have to wait, I suppose I can suffer through some of Vox’s inane trash.” 

“I’ll even let ya hold the remote,” Angel teased. 

“Probably not the best idea,” Alastor said, following Angel to the couch, “Or else I’ll simply turn it off.” 

“Ah, you’re no fun.” 

\--- 

Alastor would never admit it, but he did somewhat enjoy the programming Angel Dust put on while they waited for the cakes to bake, and subsequently cool. Some period drama called Downtown Abbey (“you’ll like it ‘cause they’re all prissy an’ fancy, just like you!”) – he did have to admit he was finding himself drawn in. The show reminded him a bit of his old beloved radio dramas. 

“So?” Angel asked, turning his searching gaze to Alastor as the credits rolled on a third episode, “Ya haven’t run screamin’ from three episodes yet, so ya like it, right?” 

Alastor checked his pocket watch, avoiding the question. “I believe the cakes have had plenty of time to cool. Would you like some help with the frosting process?” 

“If it’ll help it go faster yeah,” Angel nodded, looking at the clock on his own phone with a worried expression. “We’re sorta runnin’ outta time.” 

Alastor followed Angel back to the kitchen, watching silently as the spider pulled the cakes off the cooling rack. He slid the base layer towards himself, giving it a generous topping of frosting to act as an adhesive for the next layer, which Angel placed on top, doing the same with the third. 

“No need to bother with that,” Alastor said, holding out a hand to stop Angel as the other demon reached for a frosting bag he’d set out. With a click of his fingers, the cake was fully decorated – a deep, shining ganache forming a shell on which chocolate roses and green frosted stems rested. 

Angel raised an eyebrow. “Impressive, but I thought ya said magic makes it taste weird or somethin’?” 

“For the cake, yes. But the frosting – well, sugar is sugar. The cake itself will taste adequate enough.” 

“Oh.” Angel blinked at him. “Well, thanks. Guess I really do owe ya one.” 

“That was the deal, yes.” 

Angel frowned, looking like he wanted to ask him a question, but was distracted by the sound of the door opening and shutting, and the giggling of Charlie and Vaggie as they returned home. “They’re back!” He ran to the door, sticking his head out. 

“Vags, I got the surprise ya wanted ready for ya!” 

“It’s not a surprise if you start yelling about it into the hallway, Angel!” Vaggie’s voice shot back. 

Alastor rolled his eyes, flicking his microphone so his shadow elongated, quickly stepping into it to disappear back to his quarters and back to his newspaper. He’d completed his favor for Angel, he had no desire to wait around and be subjected to any excited screeching from Charlie. 

Sure enough, as soon as Angel escorted Vaggie and Charlie into the kitchen, Charlie let out a squeal when she saw the cake, running over to inspect it. 

“This is amazing! Angel, you did this?!” 

“Well, ah…” Angel rubbed the back of his head, “Vaggie asked me ta do it, it was her idea. But I actually had a little help, right, Al?” He paused, looking around, suddenly noticing Alastor wasn’t in the room anymore. “Huh. He musta fucked off…” 

He shrugged, turning his attention back to where Charlie was thanking her girlfriend with a kiss, not letting any of his mild disappointment show on his features. Alastor had helped him finish the task, and that was all that was really needed, anyway. So why was he disappointed the guy hadn’t stuck around? 

\---- 

Angel hummed to himself as he finished painting the nails on his third set of hands. Having so many fingers meant that his nail maintenance time took way longer now – not that he particularly minded, it was a nice way to relax. 

“Angel.” 

Angel shrieked and nearly fell off his vanity stool as he spun to face Alastor, who had popped up behind him via shadow. He pressed back against the mirror, trying to calm the pounding of his heart in his chest. 

“What the fuck, Al, ya don’t knock?! I thought ya were all about gentlemanly manners and shit!” 

“My apologies,” Alastor said, though he didn’t actually look sorry at all. “I did wonder if I could come ask that reciprocal favor from you now.” 

It had been about a week since Alastor had helped Angel with the cake, and the spider had seen very little of the deer since then, Angel busy with the studio and Alastor busy with the running of the hotel. He’d almost completely forgotten about the favor he still owed. 

He glanced at his still drying nails and shrugged, getting to his feet. “Yeah, sure. Whaddya need me to do? Get somethin’ down off a high shelf for ya?” 

A soft laugh track surrounded them as Alastor chuckled. “Not quite, my friend, though I am sure those long limbs will come in handy anyway.” 

“I dunno if I should be scared or turned on by that, Al.” 

“Hopefully neither,” Alastor said, summoning a portal, “After you.” 

Angel hesitated a moment, glancing at Alastor, but the demon’s eternal smile didn’t give away anything, whether it was something harmless or sinister he was planning. Still, Angel was usually willing to try anything once, and he stepped through. 

He wasn’t expecting to find himself standing in the center of a blood-soaked room. 

The entire place was dripping with red – the walls, the ceiling, every viable surface. Someone had had the forethought to roll up the carpet covering the floor, at least, but the boards underneath were just as soaked with blood and viscera. Angel took a step back as Alastor stepped through right next to him, waving a hand to make the portal disappear. 

“…So… uh… what favor did ya need from me…?” 

“Help cleaning up, of course,” Alastor said casually. “Normally I would ask Niffty, but Charlie invited her to a girl’s night out with herself and Vaggie, and the dear hardly has any other female friends, far be it for me to deny her an opportunity to make some.” 

“Oh…” Angel blinked, not expecting that sort of thoughtfulness out of Alastor considering they were literally standing knee-deep in what Angel assumed had been Alastor’s dinner, “Well uh… sure, I guess… where d’ya want me ta start?” 

“If you wouldn’t mind getting the windows – as I mentioned, you have long arms – you should be able to reach the top, there.” 

Angel nodded, crossing the room to the windows, trying not to slide in the blood too much and reaching for the rag and bucket that sat on a nearby table. He was starting to wish he hadn’t just done his nails. 

“Damn, ya really got this everywhere everywhere,” Angel said. “The fuck were ya doin’?” 

“Eating,” Alastor shrugged, confirming Angel’s suspicions. “I did try to avoid the jugular as it has a tendency to spurt, but, well – as you can see, here we are.” He rolled up his shirt sleeves, getting down low with his own bucket to take care of the floor. 

Angel nodded, wiping away at the blood on the glass for a few moments before letting out a soft giggle. 

“What’s funny?” 

“Oh – nothin’.” 

Alastor looked up from the floor where he was scrubbing, “Go on. I do enjoy a good joke.” 

“It ain’t really a joke, I was just rememberin’ somethin’ stupid,” Angel said. “It reminded me when ya said about the blood spurtin’. Once my Pa had my bro an’ I choppin’ up this body –“ he paused, biting his lip, “That ain’t too gross for ya, right?” 

Alastor leaned up, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the blood soaked room around them. “What do you think?” 

“Oh, right,” Angel snorted, “Anyway, my bro an’ I were choppin’ up this guy an’ he made the same mistake you did – started gushin’ blood everywhere like a popped open fire hydrant. My brother started freakin’ out ‘cause he thought he got some in his mouth…” he laughed softly again, “Makes me laugh every time I think about it.” 

“I see. How… amusing.” 

“I guess ya had ta be there.” Angel returned to his work before glancing over his shoulder at Alastor. “You got any siblings?” 

“No, there was simply me, but then again,” Alastor’s sharp fanged smile grew, “How could you possibly improve on perfection?” 

“Ha ha, real hilarious.” 

“My mother used to say that to me all the time when I pestered her about more siblings, but I more or less enjoyed being the single child of the family.” 

Angel hummed. “I liked havin’ siblings. To a point, anyway, they can be a real fuckin’ pain in my ass.” 

“Can? So they’re down here as well?” 

“The whole family ‘cept for Ma, s’far I can tell,” Angel sighed, then grinned, “Prolly ‘cause a’ that whole ‘choppin’ up bodies an’ getting’ their blood in your mouth’ thing.” He stepped back, admiring his handiwork in the clean glass, turning around and scowling as he saw what appeared to be a piece of skull in the corner. He sighed and moved to kick it out of the way, planning to start on the walls next. 

“Y’know, I kinda think this is a bigger return favor than helpin’ me wit’ that cake,” Angel said, placing his lower hands on his hips. 

Alastor paused, looking around at the work still ahead of them. “…Well then. I shall have to owe you another favor to make up for it, shall I? Is there anything I can help with?” 

Angel just smiled a little, turning back to the wall. “I’ll hafta think about it, Smiles, but s’nice ta know the offer’s there.” He scrubbed for a moment before stopping again. “I can’t take the scrubbin’ noise, can ya play some music or somethin’? An’ that’s not countin’ as the favor!” 

“Of course, my dear,” Alastor said, clicking his fingers so crooning, jazzy music surrounded them. Angel cocked his head. 

“No chance for somethin’ from the top one hundred, eh?” 

“Certainly not.” 

“Ah well, worth a shot.” 

\---- 

Alastor did not forget about the favor he owed Angel Dust. In fact, he’d been anticipating it rather keenly since they’d finished cleaning the blood off the walls and floor of his room. But the spider hadn’t approached him with anything. 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Angel was teasing him. The porn star would come up to him, backs of dresses unzipped, and ask “Hey Al, can ya do me a favor an’ zip me up?” 

Nights at the bar, Angel would lean forward and bat his eyelashes at him. “Hey Al, do me a favor and slide me that glass?” 

“Do me a favor an’ get the door?” 

“Do me a favor an’ toss me my phone?” 

Of course Alastor would oblige, but every time Angel would prance off, giggling, tossing over his shoulder, “An’ that doesn’t count as the favor!” 

It was beginning to drive him a little bit mad. 

He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he found he enjoyed the spider’s company whenever he found himself in it, but it was hard to find legitimate excuses to spend time around him that wouldn’t seem odd or suspicious against the persona he’d built for himself at the hotel. If Angel Dust needed a favor that required something time consuming, that would be a better excuse than any flimsy one he could come up with. Or, perish the thought, simply asking Angel if he wanted to spend time with him. 

No, he just needed to wait until Angel Dust finally came up with a favor that needed doing. If he ever did. 

Alastor reflected as he leaned against the bar, half-heartedly pestering Husker while he stared into the brandy the cat had poured for him. He actually hadn’t seen Angel in a day or so – it wasn’t all that unusual for the spider to disappear every once in a while, as he had a few clients that often bought his time for longer than his usual rates. 

Alastor’s attention was pulled out of his confusing thoughts as Angel stomped into the hotel, his expression sour. He ignored Alastor as he pulled up a stool, tossing a purse onto the counter. “Gimme somethin’ that’ll fuck me up, Husk.” 

“Rough night?” Alastor questioned, earning a glare from Angel. 

“Ain’t any o’ your business.” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow, watching how Angel held one arm close to his body, how his shoulders slumped with exhaustion, how the corners of his mouth pulled down with impatience as he waited for Husk to pass along his drink, the squint of his eyes as he forced tears not to form in them. 

“Did you injure your arm somehow?” 

Angel snorted. “Turns out when ya highest payin’ client ghosts ya, your pimp doesn’t really take that as an answer for why ya don’t have his fuckin’ money.” 

“Oh.” Alastor blinked. He didn’t really understand the integral ins and outs of Angel’s business, and he was not particularly inclined to find out, but still… 

“So Valentino took his pound of flesh, then, is that it?” 

Angel stiffened, knocking back the drink and turning to Alastor. “Ya wanna do me a big fuckin’ favor, Al? Just get me outta here and put me outta my goddamn misery.” 

Alastor took a sip of his brandy, watching Angel go as an idea formed. “NIffty?” 

The diminutive cyclops appeared next to him in a minute, brandishing a feather duster, “Oh no, Alastor, you didn’t get blood somewhere else already, did you?” 

“No, no,” Alastor waved a hand, “Nothing like that. Please, be a dear and grab my Atlases from my office, and bring them to my room? Please try to make sure I’m not disturbed – I shall be in there for some time.” 

“Okie dokie!” 

Niffty zoomed away, and Alastor turned from his room. He finally knew how he could repay his favor to Angel Dust. 

\---- 

It took Alastor a full day to finish his preparations, and waited yet another day to give Angel some time to cool off before approaching him. 

“Angel?” 

The spider looked up from where he was lounging on the couch, tapping on his phone. “Yeah?” 

Alastor cleared his throat, “I wondered if you might join me in my room.” 

Angel’s eyebrows shot up. “The fuck? I thought you weren’t into that shit.” 

Alastor winced at the involuntary screech of radio feedback before the ambient noise that surrounded him smoothed out again, “No, certainly nothing like that, I’m afraid. I am very well aware I still owe you as far as a significant favor, and I have come up with something on my own. If that’s alright, of course.” 

Curiosity flicked over Angel’s face, and he stood, taking Alastor’s proffered hand. “You ain’t plannin’ to eat me, are you…?” 

“Mm, no, though I do hope you will bring your own appetite,” Alastor said, opening a portal and stepping them both through it. 

When they stepped out again, it wasn’t into Alastor’s room – instead it was onto a cobbled street, tall colorful buildings rising above them, a gorgeous sparkling moon illuminating everything. Between the buildings, it was just possible to make out a glistening ocean. Angel looked around, eyes wide. “What the – where the fuck are we?” 

“Technically, we are still inside my room,” Alastor said, “But for all intents and purposes, we are in Sorrento, Italy.” 

“I – we’re what?” 

“I’ve never been, so I did have to rely somewhat heavily on the photos in the Atlas, but I think I’ve made a fairly convincing simulacrum. It’s all an illusion, of course, but it should feel real enough.” 

Angel just stared at him. “Why?” 

“You said you wanted me to get you out of here,” Alastor said. “I can’t get you out of Hell, but I thought this would be an excellent way to see a favor repaid.” 

“Shit…” Angel breathed, looking around. “You did all this just to repay a stupid favor?” 

“Not just this, in fact.” 

Alastor took Angel’s arm, gently guiding him around a corner to where a quaint little outdoor café sat, the table already set for two. Alastor pulled Angel’s chair out for him, the spider still looking shell shocked as he sat down. 

“Al, this is way too much, I didn’t really mean ya owed me this big…” 

“Nonsense.” Alastor sat across from him, reaching for a wine bottle to pour them both a glass. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with how unconfident he was suddenly feeling.  
“It’s true I wanted to repay the favor, but the truth is… I was hoping you’d come to me with something so that we could spend time together. Because…I… enjoy spending time with you.” 

Angel stared at him. “Ya do?” 

“Not at first, but… yes. You’re insightful and empathetic, and the fact that you don’t seem cowed by a bit of blood is a plus, as well.” 

Angel’s confused look suddenly melted into a smirk. “Wait a minute… Al, is this a date?” 

There was that damn radio screeching again. “I – if – I suppose. Yes. If you want to call it that. If you are alright with calling it that.” 

“’Course I am,” Angel said, “Man, it’s been a minute since I been properly wined and dined like this.” 

“Then perhaps for our next one I can attempt to conjure up Paris,” Alastor said, feeling a bit bolder. “I’ve always wanted to go.” 

Angel toyed with the silverware in front of him, then glanced up. “Alastor… could I kiss ya?” 

Alastor felt his cheeks grow hot. “Not just now. But… perhaps… later.” 

Angel gave him a smile then, a genuine one, reaching for his own wine glass. “Guess I’ll just have ta owe ya, then.”


End file.
